Low Blow
by MaplePucks
Summary: Alfred returns home from a meeting at Capitol Hill and something is wrong. He's acting odd, not himself. Apologizing a lot, sounding more like Matthew then himself. What in the world happen at that meeting? Why won't Alfred look Arthur in the eye? *UsUk, mild violence described*


**Hello everyone! Hetalia fic for today!  
I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a long long time now and I had to finally get it out of there. For those who might say it's a bit OOC for Alfred, it's really not. That episode where Commander Perry hits him on the head after he said something stupid was the inspiration for it.  
**

 **Comments and tips are awesome! Enjoy!**

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The Englishman happened to be in the kitchen, making tea, when he heard the sound of that blasted motorcycle in the driveway. On one hand, it meant Alfred had finally come home from a day of meetings with his boss. One the other, well, Arthur just really hated that motorcycle. He was convinced the American was going to seriously injure himself one of these days. Semi-immortality from being a nation notwithstanding.

When he heard the front door open and the keys hit the bowl on the coffee table, Arthur called out to him. "Welcome home, Alfred. I've made some tea, come and have some with me!"

After a little more shuffling around, Alfred removing his jacket he assumed, the man walked into the kitchen. Arthur's smile faded as it became abundantly clear that Alfred was not okay. Firstly, he had said a word of greeting and secondly, he never walked into a room with his head hanging so low. Arthur couldn't see his eyes at all. The American went right to the fridge, prying it open to reach in and grab an ice cold beer.

"Sorry, Arthur. Tonight is just not a tea kinda night if you know what I mean." He said, never once picking up his head to look at him. Such odd behavior his boyfriend was exhibiting tonight. Arthur had seen Alfred act in a different ways but never this way.

When Alfred crossed the room to sit at the kitchen table with him, Arthur grabbed his forearm. Not too tightly but firm enough to stop him walking.

"Alfred? What's the matter? What's wrong, love?" He asked, seriously concerned about him. He gasped when Alfred roughly pulled his arm away. Though Arthur didn't think he was trying to be mean about it. He sensed something. Something was off. Alfred didn't want to be touched at all right now. But he knew he had offended Arthur and he sat down quickly opposite him.

"Sorry, again, Arthur, damn now I sound like Mattie don't I? Always apologizing! That's my bro for ya." He said, nervously laughing while his head was still down.

"Alfred, Wha-"

"No seriously, I'm totally fine! I've just got this crick in my neck that's been a real pain in the neck to work out!" Alfred replied, laughing at his own corny joke again. Arthur was becoming very impatient with Alfred over the fact that he was lying to him. Clearly he was. It didn't take much to know that.

"Alfred, my love, I want the truth. It's not a pain in the neck. Did something happen at the meeting this afternoon?"

"No, no! Everything was totally fine, my boss handled everything like a champ, as always. It was fine, nothing happened. Nothing at all."

"You are aware that you are a terrible liar, aren't you?" Arthur said, taking a sip of his tea. He would break Alfred down until he eventually told him what had happened. It was only matter of time, it always was with Alfred. He couldn't stand lying to someone, and Arthur used this to his advantage.

Alfred took a quick pull of his beer, being deliberately careful not to show Arthur his face and hung his head again. "Yea, I know I'm a bad liar so why would I try and tell ya one, Artie? Doesn't make sense. It's not in my character to do that. So, I'm not lying, obviously." He said, shrugging his shoulders.

The Brit took another, long, sip of tea and nodded. "Is that so? Show me your face." He stated.

"W-What?"

"Show me your face. It's not a hard request, love. Look me in the eye and tell me you are not lying about the meeting." He repeated, looking at the top of Alfred's head with a deadpan stare. Even his cowlick looked a bit odd. Droopy and was it a bit discolored? Arthur was not liking the current situation. And Alfred was not co-operating at all.

"I don't see why you need me to look at you for that." He shrugged, or at least Arthur though that might have been one, it was hard to tell. He sighed, annoyed now, but also highly concerned.

"You can not hide your face all night from me, I'll see it sooner or later. Might as well come on with it, look me in the eye and tell me nothing is wrong." He said again. This back and forth game was getting old quick. But he finally broke down Alfred. The American across from him took a deep breath.

"Artie, you're not gonna like what you see..." Alfred whispered to him, the grip on his bottle tightening. Arthur took his own hand off his cup to reach over, gently brushing his fingers.

"That concern has already crossed my mind, now come on, up we go, show me those baby blues of yours. I want to see them." He replied, steeling himself for what was going to happen.

And as Alfred lifted his head, he gasped in shock and worry.

The American's left eye was swollen horribly, Arthur couldn't tell if it was open or not. Small lines of dried blood stemmed from his nose, both left and right nostril and it was most definitely broken. There was a gash in his hair line, just above his infamous cowlick, causing it to droop. It was covered with dried blood. His glassed were missing but Arthur could see where they had cut into his skin on his cheek, presumably when he was hurt in the eye.

Arthur took a moment to take it all in, trying to organize his thoughts. There were quite a few logical conclusions his brain jumped too, but he didn't want to offend or upset Alfred any worse then he clearly already was. This called for another long sip of tea.

In fact, he drained his cup in one gulp.

After a long few moments of tense silence, he cleared his throat. "Where are your glasses?" Was the first thing he could think to say. Several, hundred other questions ran through his mind but that one that came tumbling out of his mouth first. Alfred rubbed the back of his neck.

"Uh," He smiled sheepishly and Arthur saw the busted lip he was sporting. "Broken. I think they are still at Capitol Hill somewhere but they were smashed, no point in going to get them." He said, trying to keep his smile up. Arthur nodded at all of that, trying to sort out his mind. But he shook his head.

"Alfred, what the bloody hell happened to you?" He finally asked.

"Would you believe a fall down all those stone stairs in front of the Capitol building?" He asked hopefully. Arthur looked at him seriously tapping edge of his tea cup with his finger.

"Alfred F. Jones. I swear if you do not start telling me the truth, so help me, I WILL cut off your late night burger runs. Don't think I won't." He threatened, although it had bite and conviction to it, it was a halfhearted threat. Arthur was growing more a more worried as the second drug on. Luckily Alfred sensed that and sighed.

"Alright. I'll tell you. You won't like it but," Alfred paused and looked around, as if making sure the coast was clear. "It was my Boss. Well, the people who work for my Boss. The politicians at Capital Hill. Today's meeting was a bit frustrating, you know?" He stated, shrugging his shoulders again as if it answered anything.

And no, Arthur really didn't know. He looked at Alfred, patiently waiting for him to elaborate on what had happened at the meeting. As far as Arthur knew, it should have been very routine. After a few moments of him not talking, Alfred went on.

"I'm not stupid but sometimes, I say kinda dumb things. You know that. Well, I was sitting in on the meeting, trying to keep up with everything and it's hard. It's not my fault my government went way beyond simple. So, I said some dumb things. And...they hit me for it..." He stopped there, the grip on his beer bottle so tight, Arthur was very surprised it hadn't shattered. It must have been all Alfred could do to control his strength at this moment.

"They hit you? I don't understand, you're a country representative. You should command a certain amount of respect at least. None of my bloody politicians have dared to ever lay a finger on me." Arthur replied, trying to make sense of it all.

"Well, it started way back in the 40's. World War Two. Some of the army officers would do it when I got carried away, not like this, it was always light. And the tradition snow balled from there. I actually get kicked around a lot but today was the worse it's ever been." Alfred looked back down, ashamed of himself.

The Brit opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it. He didn't utter a word. He stood up and took Alfred by the hand tugging on him. The boy got the hint and got up too, giving Arthur a curious look but he still did not utter a word as he lead him out of the room. On the way, he grabbed a dish towel and a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer.

Moments later, Arthur had Alfred in the bathroom, sitting him on the edge of the tub as he began to run cool water from the tap. He worked in silence, getting out the first aid kit and the materials he needed. He knew he should say something, anything to Alfred but his mind was moving too fast for words. He had to process things and that meant he had to occupy his hands with work. Typically, an afternoon in the garden worked wonders for clearing his head. This afternoon, tending silently to his hurt and confused boyfriend would have to do the trick.

There were a few more moments in painful silence before Arthur wrapped the peas in the dish towel and placed it on Alfred's eye. The American hissed but Arthur leaned in to kiss his forehead.

"I know, it does sting a bit but it will help. Keep that on there, love while I get this cut cleaned up." He instructed, grabbing another cloth and wetting it. He dabbed it to the gash, trying to see just how bad it was. A little deep, not requiring stitches, thankfully, but it was worrisome all the same.

When that was done, he dabbed at his nose and sighed, "Alfred, I'm afraid that your nose will have to be seen by a doctor. It's broken, dear. I'm not going to set it but it needs to be done. Tomorrow, if you can get by the clinic would be preferable. You won't be going to work, so I don't see why you can't go. First thing in the morning, I'll wake you and make you some tea, how does that sound?" He asked, smiling now, calmly. The expression of curiosity that spread over Alfred's face almost made him laugh.

"What do you mean I'm not going to work? I have to, there's a bunch of important meet-" Arthur stopped him in mid-sentence.

"Absolutely not. Not in this condition and not with those bloody nutters running around! You are taking a day off and I don't want to hear otherwise. What are they calling it now a days? Ah, a mental health day. Yes, you are taking one of those." Arthur replied. The American in front of him now looked uncertain and that was not comforting at all. It wasn't a look Alfred should wear.

"I-I don't know, Artie. I need to be there." Alfred told him, and Arthur huffed, putting down the cloth.

"Why, so they can take out their frustrations on you again? Are you needed to be a punching bag?" Arthur demanded. Fidgeting with his hands and avoiding Arthur's glare, Alfred shook his head.

"I make decisions too." He said in a small voice.

Arthur could hardly believe that with a Hero Complex as deep as his, Alfred was reverting to being so childlike. It was unnerving and completely surprising. It made him sick to think about just how long Alfred had been abused. And for what? Because sometimes he said some foolish and stupid things? Who didn't really? They were semi-immortal, not infallible.

Well, Arthur knew one thing for certain that he would be sorting them out. Right now, he needed to focus on Alfred.

"Of course you do, love. Important ones too, this country would go to Hell without you, I know it would. But all I'm asking is you just take a day for yourself. You are under so much stress as of late-"

"Yea, but what country isn't right now? Everybody is stressing. Even France and Canada and they never stress. You can't single me out on that." He interjected. Arthur had to admit he made a fair point in that but as far as he knew, the other representatives weren't being knocked about by their politicians. He shared that point with Alfred and cupped his face gently.

"If you won't do it for yourself, at least humor me. One day isn't going to change the whole country of you aren't there." He replied, stroking his cheek lovingly with his thumb.

It took a few moments, Arthur could see Alfred working things out in his brain, but the American finally sighed and leaned into hug Arthur to give him a kiss on the lips.

"For you. I'll stay home for you since you are so worried about me. That's the kind of Hero I am, always looking out for others." He said, smiling at last, a true smile and puffing out his chest in pride. Arthur was relieved that he was feeling more like himself and kissed him back.

"I wouldn't want you any other way, Alfred. Stay strong and power through. Hero's always do after all." He replied, going back to work on cleaning Alfred's battle scars.


End file.
